


the lady of the howling wolves

by Merideath



Series: into the woods [5]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 16:54:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5833276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merideath/pseuds/Merideath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day she would run with wolves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the lady of the howling wolves

**Author's Note:**

> I know there isn't much here, at least not yet, but I didn't want to lose the story by only having it posted on tumblr. For awhile now I wanted to write a Peggy/Angie fairy tale (and a Steve/Peggy one too for that matter), but this little ficlet is as far as I got. 
> 
> Inspiration came from a fairy tale prompt box I stumbled across in a random search for something that I have forgotten about. One of the prompts was 'the girl who ran' which I let run around in my head till an image formed and a few words fit themselves together. 
> 
> This little ficlet is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

“When my father said wolves were coming to dinner I did not imagine you,” the princess says. 

“A woman?” Peg, the Lady of the Howling Wolves, says. Her scarlet lips curl in a smile sharp as the winter wind. 

“No, I imagined wolves with hollow bellies, ruby eyes, and yellow teeth like mountain tops,” Angelina says. She dips her head, embarrassment flooding her cheeks a delicate pink. 

The Lady of the Howling Wolves tilts her head back and laughs, full throated and free. A thorn of jealously pierces Angelina’s heart. Freedom was not a luxury her father allowed. 

“Are my men not fearsome enough for you, princess?” Peg asks. She raises her goblet to her men lounging about on the lower table. 

“Indeed, though not as fearsome as their lady,” the princess says. The Lady of the Howling Wolves was fearsome and beautiful, with her berry stained lips, and dark eyes bright with a cunning more suited to a fox than a pack of rough men masquerading as wolves. 

“‘My nurse told me a story once. A beautiful fairy prince fell in love with a blacksmith’s daughter. A demon cut out the prince’s heart with a blade of ice. The brave blacksmith’s daughter took the finest blade from the fire to seek her revenge. She tamed a pack of fearsome wolves and together they tore the demon to pieces, with swords and teeth dripping with blood the color of the night sky.”

“Such a bloody tale for a princess to hear,” Peg says. There is sorrow in her eyes, pain that she does not speak. 

“Even a princess bleeds,” Angelina says. She tilts her chin up, defiance burning in her belly. 

“True,” Peg says. With a small smile the lady sips her wine.

“Daughter, mind your tongue,” father says. His tone is light, a serpentine smile crossing his sharp face. “The Lady Margot does not need to hear your stories.”

Angelina pales, her heart cracking with the ice in her blood. “Yes, father,” she says, meek as a lamb. Her back is straight, her face smooth as the frozen lake. She feels small as the mice that live in the rushes. 

The princess smiles, sweet as summer wine, and curls her fingers around her silver knife. She spears a chunk of meat on her plate, imagines the blade piercing her father’s black heart. 

One day she would run so fast she would outrun her father’s reach.

One day she would run with wolves.


End file.
